


A Glimpse Into The Forbidden

by Merrinpippy



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: And fangirl intensely at the same time?, Bilbo is confused, Gen, How was I supposed to watch that and not cry about THAT SCENE, I blame this on the new desolation trailer, I don't know whether to tag this as MCD or not. Maybe Later., I love Bilbo torture and death, I mean come on, Other Bilbo is Trailer Bilbo, Other Thorin is Trailer Thorin, So I'm pretty sure he's in character then, Thorin doesn't think so, Unless it's Trailer Thorin and then he agrees, it's fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrinpippy/pseuds/Merrinpippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo vanishes and comes to in darkness. </p><p>He finds himself faced with terrifying images that he doesn't know is his future. </p><p>That's right. THE TRAILER. (dramatic chipmunk in the distance)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Glimpse Into The Forbidden

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look I did a thing.
> 
> I couldn't resist. I regret nothing.

One minute, Bilbo was next to Thorin, laughing with the company as they made camp.

The next, darkness.

A voice echoed faintly to his ears. “Truly the tales and songs fall utterly short of our enormity, O Smaug the Stupendous.”

But…that sounded like…where _was_ he?

What looked like snow began to fall around him. He suddenly felt as though he was suspended from a great height, but he found he could not move. Bilbo, try as he might, could not twist his head around to locate the dwarves.

He could not hear them, either.

As far as he could tell, Bilbo was completely alone.

“…dwarves of Erebor…”

Maybe not. That was...Thorin, if Bilbo wasn’t mistaken. But why would Thorin need to mention that in the company? Unless they had unfamiliar company. Maybe Bilbo had been hit on the head by a newcomer, and was currently almost unconscious?

But that didn’t explain the voice that sounded _so much_ like himself. But that could have been his imagination…right?

Blurred images started flashing by him. First, what looked like a beautiful castle made of autumn itself. Then, a dark, deeply flooded village. Was that a boat, meandering through the blocks of navy?

“…King under the Mountain, nor will there ever…”

The images started to come too fast for Bilbo to make out. He flinched as Azog’s face came sharply into view. Then his vision became blurred again. Colours flashed before his eyes, but Bilbo found he could barely see.

“I have the only right.” That was Thorin, again. Maybe he _was_ unconscious.

Another sharp image manifested in front of him…it was himself. Bilbo was almost (but not quite) shocked to see a horrible blood stain on the other Bilbo’s forehead. He was _covered_ in cobwebs, and the other him turned and crept along…a branch?! Sweet Yavanna- the other he was running towards _giant spiders!_

Bilbo fervently prayed that this was just in his mind, and the image before his blurred and began to switch again. The colours remained somewhat the same until-

Bilbo felt a very sudden and piercing pain radiate through his head. He knew _that_ image, though he wished he didn’t. The Eye of Sauron, as shown in many books that most hobbits had never even glanced at. But this one seemed more _real…_

His attention was brought back to the flurry of movement with beautiful shades of pink and purple, and a familiar voice speaking again. “I found something, in the goblins tunnels…” Bilbo’s head swam, and he still could not make sense of anything around him.

He found he could move when he felt his body jerk backwards as one of those giant spiders he had seen earlier leapt up at him. Distantly below him, he heard himself cry out.

Green. Yellow. Blue. Red. Brown. Indigo. Blue. Brown. Grey. Black. Flames. Flying debris. Elf. Spider. More flames. Jumping dwarf?!-

Blackness again. Bilbo heaved a sigh of relief. Any more of that, and he thought he would have gone insane, and _then_ he would be even less helpful towards his company than he already was. That was, if he ever saw his company again.

Before he could wallow in those thoughts any longer, something changed.

Bilbo was falling. He saw the floor come up to meet him, but instead of the pain he remembered came with falling long distances and hitting the floor, Bilbo’s feet touched the ground with no more force than if he were to get out of bed.

He found himself in a dark room. It was very, very real. Instinctively Bilbo leaned forward into a crouch, and looked around. The walls around him were green and aged, as far as he could tell. There were a few pillars around him, but he couldn’t see much beyond them. The pillars’ designs looked similar, and he wondered where he could have seen anything like them before-

And then it hit him. The company’s weapons.

Somehow, Bilbo was in a dwarven-made structure. And judging by the emptiness of the area, it had been long abandoned. His conclusion was not a hard one to reach.

His breath began to come in short pants. How was he here? What had he just seen? Was it Gandalf? Surely Gandalf would have _told_ him before doing anything…but he shouldn’t come to conclusions yet. Bilbo tried to steady himself, but to no avail. He was panicking, and with good reason.

If he was indeed in Erebor, then he was alone. And possibly faced with a dragon.

He crept forward, eyes wide and darting, trying to take in as much of his surroundings as he could. Admittedly there wasn’t a lot; there were dark green stone (was it stone?) walls and pillars dotted around, and that was about it. As far as Bilbo could see, they were (and he was) in a hall of some sort. Bilbo noted that there was not any furniture.

Suddenly Bilbo heard a distant noise. He jerked so violently that he tripped and choked, ending up on the cold, hard floor, gasping in pain.

This had to stop.

He had dealt with _trolls_ and _orcs_ and _goblins_ and- of course!

Bilbo slipped a shaking hand into his pocket and brought it back out with the small gold ring that he’d found in Gollum’s cave. How had he not thought of it before? Bilbo slipped the ring on, and sighed in relief and satisfaction.

The colour drained from his vision, leaving him with a soft greyscale. Bilbo was still worried, but his breathing (and heart rate) evened out a noticeable amount. He allowed himself a short burst of laughter at this strange predicament before rolling over to help himself up.

Then he remembered why he had fallen in the first place.

Slowly, Bilbo unsheathed his sword ( _not_ a letter-opener, thank you _very much)_ and crept towards where the noise was coming from. Because indeed, while Bilbo was attempting to comfort himself in this uncomfortable position, the noise had continued.

As the noise grew louder, it also separated into two separate entities. Voices. Too familiar voices. But that was impossi- Bilbo sighed, resigned, and continued forwards. The voices clearly belonged to himself and Thorin, but he could not make out any words.

And then they came into view. Other Bilbo and Other Thorin were both wearing different clothes than what they were wearing at the camp- Bilbo realized now that he _was_ actually mirroring Other Bilbo, or was it the other way around?

Other Bilbo attempted to leave through a door that he and Other Thorin were close to, but Other Thorin’s blade – NOT Orcrist – whipped up to block him. Bilbo broke into a run now, confused, scared, and wondering what the _hell_ was going on.

If looks could kill, Other Thorin would have gruesomely murdered Other Bilbo by now, for the face he wore was angry and cruel beyond anything Bilbo had ever seen before.

Slowly, Other Thorin’s hand began to twist. Other Bilbo’s expression mirrored his own. This couldn’t be happening.

Other Bilbo was forced to step backwards, staring at Other Thorin in alarm. Finally, Bilbo reached the pair and tore off the ring- but neither seemed to notice him and Other Thorin began to step towards Other Bilbo, blade rising. It came down swiftly, cutting through Other Bilbo’s chest like butter.

Both Bilbos screamed in the agonizing pain they both felt; one physical, one emotional. It seemed like time was slowing down as Thorin’s blade cut closer and closer to Other Bilbo’s heart, leaving a horrible trail of crimson in its wake. And then Other Bilbo stopped screaming.       

The world began to break into fragments around him, and Bilbo fell to the floor. He could practically _feel_ his sanity trying to imitate his surroundings. Pieces of everything split apart. Upon hitting the floor, they shattered like glass. It grew into a whirlwind around him until the only thing left still was Other Thorin, sword held in a vice-like grip and dripping with blood.

His blood.

Other Thorin raised his head and looked Bilbo in the eye, and the murder in Other Thorin’s gaze made Bilbo feel sick.   

Everything crashed around him, and he was engulfed by darkness.

Bilbo was being shaken. “Bilbo! Bilbo, can you hear me?” No. No I don’t want to hear you-

“What’s wrong with him?” Another voice. Kili’s.

“I do not know- are you certain he disappeared?” Gandalf.

“Yes, of course, _right in front of us!_ ” That was _him_ again, and the sheer panic in his voice only made Bilbo more confused-

“Gandalf, hasn’t anything like this happened before?” Was that…Bofur?

“Not to my knowledge. But I was not with you.”

Though the voices continued speaking, Bilbo was still being shaken, and he _knew_ who it was that held him and _by Iluvatar_ he did not want to look into those lightless, violent blue eyes again anytime soon. But he knew he had to open his own.  

Bilbo took a deep breath. Slowly, he lifted his eyelids.

14 worried faces surrounded him. He pointedly _did not_ look at Thorin for fear of what he might find. As his senses returned to him he realized he had tears on his cheeks. He took deep breaths, and his attempt to calm himself was much more successful than it had been the first time.

“Bilbo? What happened, laddie?” Balin asked him gently. No-one else dared to speak.

“I-“ Bilbo’s voice cracked, and he tried again. “I’m n-not sure what happened to me, I just…”

“Forgive me, laddie, but you misunderstand. We saw you vanish. A few minutes later, we saw you return. I think we would all like to know…what happened to you…what did _that?”_

Bilbo blinked a few times in confusion. Nobody else wanted to move, but Ori tentatively reached behind himself and retrieved a small mirror. He angled it so Bilbo could see him own face.

He was as white as his mother’s old Arrowheads she used to grow, but more striking than the deathly look on his face was…

…the glowing orange sword slashes that lit up his irises. It seemed Other Thorin’s gaze had pierced him after all.

Before he could stop himself, he looked at the Thorin that still held him. His face was slightly paler than the rest of the company’s, and his face showed blind panic and intense worry, no doubt about Bilbo’s new fashion choices. Bilbo promptly turned to the side of him with no inhabitants and threw up.

All in all, it had been a very pleasant day.    

**Author's Note:**

> I think there's something seriously wrong with me for writing this. Oh well. 
> 
> That bit gives me chills every time I see it so OF COURSE I'll take it and turn it into this and then leave it here. I wonder what would happen if Thorin and Bilbo were left alone and then Thorin interrogated Bilbo about what happened?
> 
> I still regret nothing.


End file.
